


Machu Picchu

by rockugou (Elyalae)



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Aliens, Angst, Conspiracy Theories, Established Relationship, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Mental Health Issues, One Shot, Past Drug Use, or at least implied, they love eachother but their relationship isn't that good, this is set in oregon for some reason?? don't ask
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 08:27:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14996834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elyalae/pseuds/rockugou
Summary: A story about two lovers, a backpack, and a rickety old trailer in the middle of nowhere. Not as bad as it sounds, I swear.





	Machu Picchu

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first SP fanfiction, so be easy on me, guys. By the way, the name is basically irrelevant to the story, I was just listening to Machu Picchu by The Strokes as I wrote this. Enjoy!

In the middle of nowhere, there was a small metal trailer with a bent TV antenna plastered to the roof with duct tape. Technically speaking, it was not in the middle of nowhere, but it was in fact located in the middle of a large birch forest somewhere in Oregon. Now, this was very specific. The forest couldn’t have been pine, or oak, or, god forbid, redwood, it had to be somewhere that a spacecraft could easily land. The TV antenna had to be perfectly adjusted and waterproofed for rain. Doctor Tweek Tweak was the one and only resident of the trailer. With it’s old and tawny lawn chairs out front, and shiny, captivating exterior, it truly looked like the home of a madman. Which was fine, considering that nearly everyone regarded Tweek as a madman. He probably was, the many diagnoses simply gone ignored. 

However, on a daily basis there would be a red Chevrolet Silverado parked out front in a small patch of dust. The car was not well maintained, but it was enough to prove that this car did not belong to Tweek. 

The steps to the rickety old trailer squeaked obnoxiously as someone made their way up them. The door nearly busted in as the visitor knocked on it three times. 

“Honey?” called a voice from behind the door.

Tweek whipped around in his spinning chair and glared at the door. “Craig?” he asked suspiciously. “Knock five times if it’s you.”

A sigh was heard from behind the door. “For God’s sake, I’m not a Martian,” he groaned. 

“Okay. I’m not letting you in unless I know you’re the real Craig.” Tweek spun back around towards his computer. 

Craig obliged reluctantly, knocking on the door five times. Tweek then leapt up from his chair, stretching his legs as he bounced over to the door and swung it open. “Greetings!” he said cheerily, wrapping his arms around Craig’s waist. “Did the grocery have Hot Pockets?”

“Yes, they had Hot Pockets,” Craig sighed, returning the hug. He dropped a paper bag by their feet, then swiftly grabbed a box of the pizza-flavored treats. Swinging open the empty fridge, he shoved the Hot Pockets into the corner. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten? You’re a scientist, you should know that bingeing the first day you get the food isn’t proper nutrition.”

Tweek shrugged. “I didn’t binge. I just figured that if I’m ever in the captivity of extraterrestrial beings, I can have a ready package of Hot Pockets to tide me over,” he replied, picking up a red kid’s backpack from the floor and tossing it towards Craig. “You can go ahead and put them in the fridge, but if I starve to death in the hands of alien life, it’s your fault.”

“I thought you didn’t like the word alien,” Craig replied, unzipping the backpack and tossing the boxes of Hot Pockets into the fridge alongside the new ones. 

“I’ve decided that it’s easier than saying ‘extraterrestrial life’ in nearly  _ every sentence _ .”

“Makes sense to me. We should watch TV. I’m sick of just coming here to dump groceries on you.”

Tweek frowned. “The radio waves from the television would obviously interfere with waves I could possibly be receiving from the aliens at this very second.”  
“Fine, let’s watch _The X Files_ on my iPad.”

“ _ The X Files  _ is completely fake. They don’t know a thing about extraterrestrial life.”

“I’m still watching it with you, whether you like it or not,” he decided, walking towards the bed. He carefully took an iPad stand out of his bag and placed it on the end-table of the bed, laying comfortably upon the white sheets. He patted the white sheets next to him, beckoning the other man to lay next to him as he pulled up Netflix and started the show.

A few minutes in, rain started to patter against the tinny roof of the trailer. Tweek looked up every few seconds with his brow furrowed. 

“I saw that the satellite was waterproofed when I got here. You’re fine,” Craig assured him as if he could read his mind. 

Tweek nodded bleakly, focusing back on the TV show. The voices of Scully and Mulder blared through the speakers of the iPad, just barely masking the sound of the pouring rain. He would make occasional offhanded comments about how unrealistic their “research” was, and Craig would reply by offering to buy him a poster for the gray bulletin board above his bed.

“I’ll have you know that that bulletin board is purely for scientific purposes,” Tweek responded, flopping onto his back and staring at the ceiling. A long pause occurred before he spoke over the noise of the television show.“Do you ever get the feeling that this isn’t what we’re meant to do?”

“We should be living in a quaint house in Palm Springs instead,” Craig agreed, turning the volume on his iPad down. 

“No. You should live here with me, and we can get married and find the true Martians and be world-famous scientists.”  
“Tweek, I’ve told you so many times that I just can’t do that.”

“But why not?” he cried suddenly, sitting up. “I’m so close! Ngh... I’m so goddamn close! The waves are getting stronger by the day and you just don’t care!”

Craig looked at him with a mixture of guilt, pity, and slight anger. “Tweek. I love you so much, but you’re chasing an empty dream. The whole of your research is just nonsensical at this point. I would love to marry you, and be with you forever, but we both know that can’t happen here.” Craig felt those repressed emotions boil up again, the stupid emotions that he’d spent so long just ignoring. He couldn’t keep doing this, he couldn’t keep encouraging Tweek. Something was so, so off. The meth did something, of course, but Tweek insisted that he was changing it around. It’s not paranoia! They’re real, Craig! And he would wrap his skinny, too skinny arms around Craig and kiss him fully and make him believe that he wasn’t fueling Tweek’s delusions at all and that everything would be all right. But it wouldn’t, because this would happen every time, Craig left with these thoughts that it was all his fault and that he was killing his fianc é.

Tweek looked at him then, his eyes now rimmed with red and his fists clenching and unclenching. His hands shook and eye ticced, something that had subsided a bit with age. “Craig, please get out.” Words all too familiar.  “And take your Hot Pockets and healthy chocolate milk with you, because where I’m going with this, I won’t need them.” He suddenly looked sick, something that maybe Craig didn’t notice before. He was too pale, the bags under his eyes too defined, the glint in his eyes far too manic. Craig liked to think he didn’t see his life with Tweek in rose-colored glasses, but the red-rimmed eyes just looked like eyes and the blood on the bathroom tiles just looked like water sometimes and that’s what happens when you’re only seeing in pink. But were they happy? Sure, they were in love, that much was undeniable, but that didn’t really change anything. It was still rough, rough all over. 

Craig nodded quietly, stuffing his iPad into his bag and heading towards the kitchen. Instead of packing the food into his bag, though, he picked up the kids’ backpack and started shoving the packages of refrigerated foods into it instead. He looked up and met Tweek’s gaze. “When you’re locked up and starving in alien captivity, you’re gonna need this.” 

And with that, he dropped the bag and left the trailer. Nothing more to ponder on. That was it, and he knew in the back of his mind he’d come back tomorrow and they’d kiss and probably have sex, because Tweek always wanted to do that, and then Craig would have to fucking force Tweek to eat like he always did and they’d make like a happy couple. Craig lived in that lovely apartment in Salem that his parents had so generously bought for them and called regularly and pretended that Tweek wasn’t living out in a trailer in the forest miles away from the complex. 

Tweek sat quietly on his bed, waiting for the door to creak open and for Craig to come in and start making them dinner and they’d make up like they always did when they had arguments. But he didn’t come back. The rain was melancholy as it beat down on the roof, mucky leaves collecting in the thin window panes. When it had rained in South Park, although it seldom did, the rain was more calming then and distant memories of cuddling up next to Craig filled Tweek’s mind. He couldn’t help himself from making odd noises or jerking his head from side to side, and he was too distracted to even try and suppress it. For a split second, he just thought, “what am I doing?” because maybe, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that Craig didn’t deserve this. 

Suddenly, a bright flash echoed throughout the silver trailer. Normally, during a storm such as this, a regular person would just brush it off as lightning. But Tweek jumped up, screaming. Because he knew that this was not any kind of ordinary lightning. 

“Craig! Oh, Craig! They’re here! It’s got to be them! They’re here!” he howled, his arms flailing out wildly as he searched blindly for the backpack. Several more flashes and cracks of thunder shook the small trailer and illuminated his field of vision. Finally, he was triumphant as he grasped the small red backpack urgently.  

He ran outside hurriedly, not wanting to miss Craig’s departure. He stopped cold on the creaky steps, clutching the backpack in his shaking arms. The Chevrolet Silverado and the man who owned it were gone, and the rain began to subside. Fog had begun to weave around the trees, ominous tendrils curling around the bleak foliage forebodingly and whispering things to Tweek that only he could hear. A faint electric buzz hovered in the air, and that was when Doctor Tweek Tweak knew that his dream truly was empty. 

**Author's Note:**

> Heres a little backstory: this wasn't a creek fanfiction. It was a writing assignment for English class, but I liked the storyline so much that I decided to repurpose it. I added more dialogue, including the long "inner turmoil" paragraphs that you've probably read if you made it down here. I changed the names as well (the characters focused on were already male) and made them more like, well, Craig and Tweek. It's fairly late at night as I write these notes, as it was when I wrote the story, so I apologize greatly if they seem OOC. Thank you so much for reading, and as always, kudos, bookmarks, and/or comments would be greatly appreciated :)
> 
> (hit me up on my tumblr! link here)


End file.
